The Anthology of courage and miscalculation
by Agent Silver
Summary: Poetry, the beauty of Man's words. Poetry, the backbone of Otto's and Rosie's love. Poetry, for which I present to you. Will update whenever, doesn't have an official storyline. updated chapter: tired
1. Broken Scientist

_Anthology

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**Broken Scientist**

A brown form could be seen by the pale moonlight,

A human in the front, four snake-like monsters in the rear,

Though stuck together, they don't cooperate

The man, smarter than others,

The machines, a powerful creation.

Used up tears threatened to spill

Hollowed voices fill your head

Of memories, of monsters, of conscience.

You wish to be like the city below

But you belonged to the shadows,

Watching over, ready to strike at the prey

Your Rose was gone

And you say it was your fault

Could it really be, that blood was spilt from your hands?

Or was it the Angels, that coveted the love you've given to her?

Was it your purpose, to help a fallen friend?

Or was it cruel fate, destined to fall?

Why act evil, with a heart of gold?

Why act good, with others stepping over you?

You did nothing to mean to hurt someone

You had a good dream, to help the world

Is this is the price of dreaming such a thing?

Or was it just plain accident?

You could howl over the night like a broken lone wolf,

But no one could hear a broken scientist

Thoughts of doubt, of failure, of miscalculation.

You only existed to teach those of the wrong,

Alongside with a good friend who teach those of the right.

You could only wish you weren't so alone

So broken, so pale, so cold.

You're only with no one but the cruel snake monsters that could not feel.

The great sacrifice.

"Why did this go this way?" you thought towards the pale moonlight

The large and white rock gives no answer.

Just the busy streets and the sleepless nights

Over the polluted Big Apple.


	2. Hero

_Anthology

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**Hero**

To help a world that hates you,

Is that like being a Humanitarian?

Or is that stupidity?

To fulfill a promise to a father figure,

Must it take forever?

Or must it be for a brief period of time?

How long is forever anyway?

Hero who flies like an eagle in the sky

The people fear you, the people loves you

You have your friends,

And you have more enemies

You soar, and you jump

Like a tight-walker from the circus

Risking everything to save all

You take more responsibility than anyone else,

To save a city with the highest crime rate

Either you're very brave, or very stupid,

Or you're very devoted to fulfill a promise.

Your friends and family were always the ones who pay,

Who knows who you are,

Who doesn't know who you are,

And they turn their backs as the worst pain of all.

They don't know you anymore,

Yet they do.

You're not strong and tough as Super-man,

You're not intelligent and quiet like Batman.

You work alone, unlike the X-Men.

You make witty comments, unlike Daredevil.

You're only a kid, with the world weighing over his shoulders,

Who was supposed to be in school,

To laugh and play,

To be with a girlfriend,

Enjoy what's left of his childhood.

The thrill of lifesaving isn't as thrilling as it used to be,

It isn't as exciting as it were.

But you couldn't stop saving them,

No matter how hard you try.

You have a pure and tormented heart,

And to protect the innocent is a rightful duty,

As innocence should be handled with care.

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Review!


	3. Cold Fusion

Hi fellas! I'm busy right now, so I didn't have the time to edit this..

The Trickster: heh, poetry's easy, if you could find the right words and the right emotions.

Moonjava: hey, thanx.you know,alot of people tend to be fustrated of your lack of commenting, but hey, at least you're following the rules! they'll get used to it :)

Everyone else: Thanks for the reviews! here's another chapter.

_Anthology

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_Cold Fusion_

Memories,

The dark and cold ones

The warm and cheerful ones

Both crushed at the moment of truth

The truth of death

As there is no death

I am a ghost,

Yet I am living

A broken memory

A broken code

I scream to the light

I cry in the dark.

Hiding became a habit

Stealing became a career

Fighting became a sport

A sport between life and death

To which life, I hate

To which death, I savor

but is cowardly in

Money was not a problem

Society easily consumed in prejudice

if only everyone was like you, my reader

the world would be a better place

These arms protect me

yet I hate them

I want them off

but who had the courage?

I am scared of this world

paranoid of what to happen

broken in a short amount of time

broken injust a few months

I have no friends

I have no family

I am a loner

an outcast

an outlaw.

I am a zero

A zero between the negative

And the positive

I am not Otto

Nor Octopus

But a bunch of shattered and broken

Memories.

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Review plz!


	4. Bank Heist

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**Bank heist**

The villain lives,

He's the trenchcoat rebel,

As an outlaw,

A cowboy of the big apple,

With the colors of destruction.

_You call me a criminal. Ha!_

_You call me a thief. Ha!_

_No, I'm nothing more than an artist,_

_With the bank heist art itself,_

_And I color the black and white canvas,_

_With my paint brush and palette._

_What made me this way?_

_How could I do this?_

_I'm not a criminal_

_But I'm not a law-abiding citizen either_

_Call me a cowboy_

_An outlaw_

_With the colors of destruction_

**Red**—the color of blood

**Blue**—the color of Chaos

**Green**—the color of money

**Yellow and orange**—the explosions

_And I mix them all together_

_This bank heist, my own white canvas_

_That I paint_

_With the colors of destruction._


	5. Spar

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_Spar_

Sweat fell as I climbed the bank's building

Money collecting is my pastime.

Then from the sky!

To my demise!

A mixture of red and blue in disguise!

A battle cry!

Oh my, oh my!

A punch aimed towards my eyes.

I kick and punched

I owe the arms a bunch

We both fought at equality,

Neither harder or softer than the other.

Swift and smart,

I fought and fought

Then I was open, just my luck

In the face,he kicked me, (that really sucked)

I often wondered, why my life fucked?

"Otto, Otto!" he called my name

I got up ready to continue the game

To fight a superhero, with infamous fame

_(And rhyming can sometimes be lame.)_

"What the hell are you doing!" he screamed to below

I look at him, feeling low

I wanted to tell him, how I'm caught in the undertow

But I said no,

I gotta go

"Oh, and so you know,

no longer am I at the name of 'Otto'."

So I ran,

As fast as I can

In this polluted land,

Under God's hand,

Feeling like a lab rat,

And with Spider-man the cat

Who was no longer closer to where I'm at.

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I enjoyed writing this chapter! lol 


	6. 1st Anniversary

**7/30/04**

I look unto your eyes.

Those sad, brown puppy eyes.

I wonder everyday, what were you thinking at the time?

What were your last thoughts?

Memories of joy?

Tears of sadness?

Wishing and what-ifs?

If only?

The arms were your demons,

To me they were your angel wings

Rough brown hair, dark trench coat,

Bright warmness and sense of humor.

You were my kind of guy,

Who I would look up to in times of darkness.

Obsessed, am I?

No, just merely looking up

I have a habit of liking a monster,

Sympathizing the feelings they have

I wonder if you wished you were in someone else's shoes?

I am a fangirl, am I not?

An Ottophile, am I not?

A writer, am I not?

An optimist, perhaps?

Even just a figment of my imagination,

I still believe that you're right in front of me.

Whether dead or alive,

You live in my heart,

And You live in all of our hearts, always.

You, in our thoughts, will never leave us

As we would never leave you.

You, Otto Gunther Octavius,

can be the best friend a girl (or even guy) could ever have.

And Mr. Molina!

Who could forget him?

He breathed life into Otto's

Expressing such personality I grew to love,

Giving such feeling that there's at least some kind of

Celebrity actor with a great heart.

How could I ever hate him?

He is one I give respect to,

And unto he I give my thanks and gratitude.

You, Alfred, have done a wonderful job.

It was always a dream for you Otto,

To help mankind.

In the plot, it didn't entirely fulfill,

But hear me out:

Maybe you did.

Your role, taught many in this world

of good and bad.

Fate sealed your life up,

If only things were simple.

I look up to you like a father, a friend, a lover even,

And surprisingly, did so many others.

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Happy SM 2 anniversary, fellow Ottophiles! Many of you request for our tentacled good doctor to return for the awaited sequel. But, hear me out--- it does not matter. He still lives in our hearts, in our thoughts, in our very memory. As I continue to read on the updated chapters and new fanfics, I began to believe that it'll be hard to forget him. He may have appeared to 'die' in the end, but still, with help oft his fandom, he still lives on, no matter what. (Though, that doesn't mean that I don't want him in SM 3! Sam Raimi, if you entirely ignored one of our best SM bad guy in the next movie, you will feel our evil fangirl wrath! Muhahahahaha! Girls, get ready to grab your pitchforks!)

But still.Without fanfiction, without this fandom, I would have never written like I've written before. Thank you guys for your awesome reviews, and to bring up such confidence that I am not alone in this universe!

yours in fanfiction land,

--Agent Silver


	7. Tired

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_Tired_

Feeling low,

I'm tired of being a rat!

Living among the garbage and alleyways,

I'm tired of living like that!

_What did I do!_ I always cry,

_What have I done!_ I scream to deaf ears.

I cry, I plead, I ask for answers.

But they still did not come.

_Why, oh why! Did I live this way?_

Must I be a criminal with an anguished heart?

I'm just tired.

I'm sick.

Everything is useless, everything is nothing.

I'm just tired.

I'm lifeless.

Can someone save this tortured soul?

Is there anyone sympathetic enough to save this cold man?

I'm tired.

I'm lost.

Long ago, I was sleeping in a warm bed,

With a wonderful wife, owning a wonderful life.

I'm tired of this, I'm tired of that

I want to go home, but where did it go?

How is there a middle-aged scientist

wearing of a rotten trenchcoat with rotten tentacles

get to this way, this horrible poverty,

is way beyond me.

I'm tired of the issues,

with the Katrinas and the earthquake and the increasing complaints of gas prices

and the inflation threat I heard.

I'm tired of the paranoia,

the running and the stunning from the police

and from the bug himself.

I'm tired of the war

between myself and the world in its nature

and the struggles and useless pain.

I'm sick, hungry, cold.

I'm just tired,so tired,so tired.

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And I know I'm tired...of all this writer's block! Sorry guys, its just that I have all PreAPs as a freshman in my core subjects, plus a Geometry class instead of Algebra. That means loads of homework. (And loads of tiredness and laziness.) And I know damn well that Otto would be proud! Hopefully I would update Swap Shock soon, but hold on and be patient!

Agent Silver


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